a life well lived.

Luka's father passed away yesterday afternoon.

Over these past few months, it was beautiful to watch the way their family cared for him, and especially in his final days. Every time I visited the hospital, there was a family member massaging his legs, fanning him, or wiping the sweat off his forehead. On Monday the doctor gave them the choice of keeping him in the hospital, or taking him back to the village to die in the comfort of his own home. The family chose to take him home, and continued to give him the best care they could. 

His words became fewer and fewer, mostly asking God to please take him home to heaven, pleading for the suffering to be over. He said to Rusty the day he was leaving the hospital that he thinks he "will be able to hold Olive in heaven today."

When he was in the hospital and feeling a bit better last week he mentioned wanting to kill a pig for his family and friends to eat when he arrived home. A few hours before his death the nephews scurried about to kill a pig to celebrate his homecoming.  After stabbing the pig in the neck and the poor pig's struggling slowed to a pause, his nephew said, "Now go ahead of Abo Tsa in heaven, because he will still want to hunt pigs there."

Apee Pae (Luka's mother) sang songs in Akha while weeping; she was going to say good-bye to her best friend, her husband of 58 years. They married when she was 16, he was 19---two Akha orphans, migrating from Burma to Thailand, became the first Akha Christians in Thailand. Through their conversion we see the spread of Christianity among the Akha in Thailand. Abo Tsa was an amazing hunter. A small humble man, who could chase down a jungle pig, and kill on his own two feet. 

Watching his friends come and say good-bye to him brought everyone to tears. They sang songs to him about memories from years ago in Akha, and wept. Ae's father was one of his close friends, and the night before he died, brought over a bottle of Sprite (their favorite drink to have together). They had one last drink together. Abo Tsa could barely drink, but managed to get a few tiny sips down. We all silently wept, watching these best friends share these final precious moments together. 

I remember this sacred, holy feeling that was in the room when we were in our final hours with Olive. The longing for her to not suffer any longer, and yet the longing for her to stay with me just a little longer. So many of those feelings hung heavily in the room. Each of his children gave him permission to go ahead of them, and said they would take care of Apee Pae (Luka's mother), until they all joined him in heaven. 

Every day over the last few weeks, as he felt death drawing nearer, his daughter asked him if he had seen heaven yet, and every day until yesterday, he disappointedly said no. Yesterday in Abo Tsa's final hour, the reality of heaven came so near.  He said he saw the hand of Jesus reaching out to him...then an angel.

His breathing slowed, thunder crashed through the sky, rain started pouring, and his spirit left his body to join Olive in heaven.

A humble orphan from Burma, who strove to walk "the Jesus way" has now heard the words, "Well done, my good and faithful servant."

Matthew 5: 3-10 (NIV)

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.